


if ever any beauty I did see

by ktlsyrtis



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Light Angst, Post-Episode: Of Lions and Lambs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:40:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9534125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktlsyrtis/pseuds/ktlsyrtis
Summary: Bernie heads home from Albie's after "Of Lions and Lambs"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from John Donne's "The Good-Morrow," the poem that was recited in the episode.
> 
> Thanks to TamaraAdama14 for the last minute beta!

Bernie stepped out of Albie's into the damp evening air, pulling her coat more tightly about her slender frame. The glass of wine she'd had (white, not red; she couldn't bear red lately) sat sour in her stomach. She pinched the bridge of her nose, the weight of the day returning as the cheerful sounds of the bar receded.  

It had been two weeks since she had seen Serena. Following her failed first attempt at returning to work, Bernie had gone to Serena's after her shift, as always. Only to be met at the door and politely asked to leave. Serena's face had been tense and drawn as she explained, calmly, so tightly controlled that Bernie thought she might shatter at a soft breeze. _Space_ , she had said. She needed space to adjust. The implication that what she really needed was space away from Bernie hung in the air. And what could she do? She couldn't force Serena to let her be there for her. To let her share in the burden of grief.

So Bernie had forced herself to smile, murmured some ridiculous platitude about _understanding_ and _only being a call away_ , before leaning in to press a soft kiss against Serena's unmoving cheek. A whispered “I love you” and she fled to her car. She barely remembered the drive back to her dreary flat, the pain a millstone in her chest. That night, alone in her bed, she had cried for the first time. Cried for Elinor, for Serena, for her own broken heart.

Although she hadn't physically seen Serena since, she had tried to stay in the other woman's periphery. Texts each morning and evening, asking if she needed anything, wanted anything. Not daring to ask if she wanted her. The replies were brief, but always there. Reassuring, in their own way, that Serena didn't truly want Bernie gone. After a week, she had become bolder, her inability to help itching under her skin. She stopped by the house, only when she knew Serena was gone, let herself in with her key. Emptied the bins, brought in the mail, made sure the laundry wasn't acting up again. One night she came by with fish and chips, thrilled when Jason answered the door. They chatted, voices low, Bernie reassuring herself that Jason was well. Promising him that things would be better, that she wasn't going anywhere, not really. She thought she saw Serena for a moment in the hallway, out of the corner of her eye. But she didn't press, didn't try to cross the threshold between them. Just handed over the takeaway bags and squeezed Jason's arm with a smile before walking away.

Until the moment she had walked onto the ward Bernie wasn't sure that Serena would truly be back to work today. Bernie had been up since before dawn, unable to sleep through the nerves and gnawing worry in her gut. She wanted desperately to be with Serena today. To drive her to the hospital, hold her hand as she walked through the doors. But Serena hadn't asked, hadn't even hinted, and Bernie needed to respect her wishes. So instead she went in to work in the grey pre-dawn hours, straightening their office, making sure everything was just as Serena preferred it. Hiding away the last few sympathy cards, clearing a few random shriveled flower petals from the floor, before putting her nervous energy into her seemingly eternal pile of paperwork. She considered running down to Pulses, as she used to, having a hot cup of coffee waiting on Serena's desk when she got in. But it felt too intrusive, too personal, too much of a reminder of _before_. The thought of the coffee getting cold and stale if Serena didn't return was to much to bear.

She had come in and, god help her, Bernie's weary heart had soared at the sight of an irritated Serena Campbell standing in her doorway. They discussed the rota and for just a moment, if she closed her eyes, she could pretend things were the way they used to be. But the lines in Serena's beautiful face were drawn too deep, weariness and sorrow etched where previously there was only joy and love. Bernie's heart clenched as Serena declared that _nurturing wasn't her thing_ , knowing that couldn't possibly be further from the truth.

But Serena was there. She was there and trying, her eyes more open than they had been in weeks and it made Bernie feel brave, hopeful. So she took a chance, unable to stop it really after the time apart.

“I've missed you.” She smiled, a tentative thing, her breath catching in her chest.

Serena smiled back, barely a shadow of her normal infectious grin, but it lit Bernie's heart like a torch, warming her from the inside out. She dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, things would eventually be okay.

The rest of the morning had passed in a blur of patients and traumas. Her eyes tracked to Serena every time she saw a flash of bright coral across the ward. She ached to be by her side, but forced herself to stay away. To give Serena room to readjust.

And then Morven had come to her. Had told her about the file, about Serena's harsh words, Jasmine's request for a transfer. She knew Serena, knew that she was trying to bury her emotions in a search for answers that would never come. For the millionth time she cursed the unfairness of it all.

Confronting Serena about the file had gone as poorly as she expected. Bernie tried to discuss things rationally, but Serena was brittle and defensive, on the verge of panic. She wanted to reach out and wrap Serena in her arms, to press kisses against her hair and try to convince her that this wasn't the way. Instead she gathered up the file, hands shaking as Serena grew more frantic.

“Give her back to me!” The words hung between them, an almost physical presence, the desperation in Serena's eyes making her chest ache. The gap between them suddenly yawned into a chasm and, for the first time, Bernie was truly afraid that they would never be able to cross it. Before Bernie could respond Morven had appeared at the door and Serena disappeared in a flutter of brightly colored silk. It was the last time Bernie had seen her that day.

After her shift she had wanted nothing more than to go home. Pick up a curry, drink one too many glasses of whiskey and get as much sleep as her mind would allow her. But Morven had found her in the locker room, offering comfort with soft eyes and softer words. Telling her she shouldn't be alone, that being around people would help. She was right, in the end. After a lifetime of relying on only herself, Bernie had found herself folded into the odd little family that made up AAU. People who had started out as simply colleagues had turned into friends, pushing their way into her heart through the door Serena had opened.

Now Bernie walked though the chilly lot, a headache behind her eyes but feeling less lonely than she had in weeks. As she approached her car, she suddenly noticed a figure leaning against the door, huddled in a long coat and fur scarf. She stopped a few feet away, hands balling to fists in her pockets.

Serena's eyes were shadowed and dark beneath her elegant eyebrows, the mist from the evening sparkling in her hair like diamonds under the street lights. Bernie found herself inanely wondering where that ridiculous dead rodent of a hat was.

“Hi.” Serena's voice was even lower than usual, as if she was unused to speaking.

“Hi.” Bernie swayed in place warily, wanting so badly to approach, but uncertain if it would be welcomed.

“I...” Serena cleared her throat, eyes dropping to her feet before rising again to meet Bernie's. “I was wondering if you'd like to get a bite to eat. I thought we could... I mean, if you, that is...”

“I'd love to.” She took a step closer, heart clenching at the uncertainty in Serena's voice. When Serena's eyes didn't waver from her own Bernie took another step, close enough now for the plumes of mist from Serena's warm breath to ghost across her neck. Her breath hitched as she felt Serena's fingers brush against her own, hooking just the first two together.

“I've missed you, too.” Serena's voice was faint enough that Bernie could have been convinced she imagined it, if it hadn't been for the way Serena's eyes were burning into her. Filled with rage and pain and sorrow, but also loneliness and hope.

Bernie took the last step without thinking. Sliding her arms around Serena's shoulders, pressing her cheek against damp brown hair as Serena's arms slipped beneath her soft pink coat, wrapping around Bernie's waist. Hesitant at first, then suddenly tightening, drawing them even closer together. She pressed a kiss to the crown of Serena's head, feeling her shudder in her arms.

Long moments later they broke apart, only allowing a few inches between them. One hand intertwined with Serena's, Bernie lifted the other to rest against Serena's cheek, softly brushing away her tears with the pad of her thumb.

“So, dinner then?” Bernie prompted, despite the fact that she would happily stay right there forever, if Serena asked.

Serena studied Bernie's eyes intently. Whatever she was looking for, she must've found it because suddenly that smile is back; tremulous, barely-there, hopeful and so, _so_ brave. Bernie thinks it might be the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

Serena nods and they separate to get into Bernie's car, heading out into the night. Together.

 

 

 

 


End file.
